every second of her weekend alone with Sam, feeling like a new creature, like someone ethereal and barely there. Her body was present, but her mind was wherever he was. Was this love? She scoffed at the notion. At best, it was an infatuation fueled by mutual attraction.
Sam had dropped her off at her apartment Monday morning on his way to work, their weekend having extended by one more night as they explored the pleasures of physical intimacy. She was too old for fairytales and wise enough to know it took more than sharing a bed to make a life together. But, Afia was also aware that although the commitments made during their fateful weekend together might be temporal, they were sincere. She cared about him, and he cared about her. She didn't regret what had happened. She told herself she was ready to face the consequences.
For the rest of the week, she did as Bionca had instructed. She practiced the speech she would give her Maman about why she felt it was important that she pursue a relationship with Sam instead of settle with a man she had no affections for, like Jabar. By Wednesday night when her boyfriend picked her up for their customary midweek date, she was bubbling with excitement to tell him her plans.
"You're really going to do it?" he asked. The biker had made one of his rare transformations from rough and rugged to polished and professional. They strolled around in an art gallery where a friend of his had a showing. She gazed up at the massive graffiti art that covered the wall from ceiling to floor.
"Yeah," she said finally. "I'm really going to do it. I want you to meet my family. Be prepared for them to be cold as ice until they get it through their heads that I'm serious about you, but eventually I think you'll come to understand them."
He nodded in pleasure. She slipped her warm fingers into his, and Sam pulled her closer for the first time without her permission. The things that had happened between them made him comfortable enough. She fit in the crook of his arm like she belonged there. "I'm willing to try," he said.
They enjoyed a wine tasting after the art show, and it was past ten o'clock when they walked out the doors of the gallery. They continued to hold hands as they ambled at a leisurely pace around the corner to where his motorcycle was parked. It was such a warm and romantic night, Afia wasn't ready to leave. Sam moved to climb aboard the bike, and she tugged on his hand to pull him back. She smiled at him coyly, receiving his smile in return.
She stepped under the streetlight into his open arms. They were so engrossed in one another neither of them noticed the group of men walking past. Sam's lips met hers in a heated kiss that said he couldn't wait to get her alone. She moaned in instant arousal. His hands slipped to the base of her spine. She wasn't one for public displays of affection, but he was so tempting. It was just a kiss.
"Shameless." The word was flung at her in Iranian. Afia stilled. She recognized the voice. She didn't dare turn around.
"Afia?" Sam said her name quizzically, wondering what was wrong, why she had stopped.
At the sound of her name, the group of men was halted by the man walking in the center. "Afia?" Rayan said, his voice trembling with fury.
She took off running. She didn't stop until the voices shouting after her were drowned out by the squeal of the tires of the taxi she dashed out in front of, barely missing her. She clambered inside and shouted directions in both Iranian and English, flustered by what had happened. Her brother had seen her! Her brother!
She bit her nails in a panic. Her thoughts raced, wondering what she could say or do to get herself out of trouble. She had left Sam! Had they fought? What had happened? Why hadn't she stayed to stick up for herself? A keening sound erupted from her lips. Hot tears flowed over her cheeks, and she was shaking so hard her teeth started to
Sam had dropped her off at her apartment Monday morning on his way to work, their weekend having extended by one more night as they explored the pleasures of physical intimacy. She was too old for fairytales and wise enough to know it took more than sharing a bed to make a life together. But, Afia was also aware that although the commitments made during their fateful weekend together might be temporal, they were sincere. She cared about him, and he cared about her. She didn't regret what had happened. She told herself she was ready to face the consequences.
For the rest of the week, she did as Bionca had instructed. She practiced the speech she would give her Maman about why she felt it was important that she pursue a relationship with Sam instead of settle with a man she had no affections for, like Jabar. By Wednesday night when her boyfriend picked her up for their customary midweek date, she was bubbling with excitement to tell him her plans.
"You're really going to do it?" he asked. The biker had made one of his rare transformations from rough and rugged to polished and professional. They strolled around in an art gallery where a friend of his had a showing. She gazed up at the massive graffiti art that covered the wall from ceiling to floor.
"Yeah," she said finally. "I'm really going to do it. I want you to meet my family. Be prepared for them to be cold as ice until they get it through their heads that I'm serious about you, but eventually I think you'll come to understand them."
He nodded in pleasure. She slipped her warm fingers into his, and Sam pulled her closer for the first time without her permission. The things that had happened between them made him comfortable enough. She fit in the crook of his arm like she belonged there. "I'm willing to try," he said.
They enjoyed a wine tasting after the art show, and it was past ten o'clock when they walked out the doors of the gallery. They continued to hold hands as they ambled at a leisurely pace around the corner to where his motorcycle was parked. It was such a warm and romantic night, Afia wasn't ready to leave. Sam moved to climb aboard the bike, and she tugged on his hand to pull him back. She smiled at him coyly, receiving his smile in return.
She stepped under the streetlight into his open arms. They were so engrossed in one another neither of them noticed the group of men walking past. Sam's lips met hers in a heated kiss that said he couldn't wait to get her alone. She moaned in instant arousal. His hands slipped to the base of her spine. She wasn't one for public displays of affection, but he was so tempting. It was just a kiss.
"Shameless." The word was flung at her in Iranian. Afia stilled. She recognized the voice. She didn't dare turn around.
"Afia?" Sam said her name quizzically, wondering what was wrong, why she had stopped.
At the sound of her name, the group of men was halted by the man walking in the center. "Afia?" Rayan said, his voice trembling with fury.
She took off running. She didn't stop until the voices shouting after her were drowned out by the squeal of the tires of the taxi she dashed out in front of, barely missing her. She clambered inside and shouted directions in both Iranian and English, flustered by what had happened. Her brother had seen her! Her brother!
She bit her nails in a panic. Her thoughts raced, wondering what she could say or do to get herself out of trouble. She had left Sam! Had they fought? What had happened? Why hadn't she stayed to stick up for herself? A keening sound erupted from her lips. Hot tears flowed over her cheeks, and she was shaking so hard her teeth started to
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